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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    dark side of the morning - anyone
    #1


    i know i'm not the center of the universe
    -but you keep spinning 'round me just the same

    He means to go to Nerine, but the riptide is strong and Ivar is already tired. His usual method of travel to the coastal Amazonian land is not an option then, so he must go on foot. The yearling has never been to Loess before, and today seems as good a day as any. The piebald colt knows that the queen of Loess, Crota, had recently held games for all of Beqanna, so he assumes that the place must be a friendly one. He is looking forward to meeting strangers; they have stories to tell, and Ivar does love stories.

    Though the smoky black colt is not yet fully grown, he has nearly reached his father’s height. He is lanky, but his thin summer coat reveals sinewy muscle from hours of swimming. He is fit, though not especially handsome, and he knows that he might be seen as threatening, so he does his best to keep to the border.

    The air here smells odd, like both salt and fresh water, desert and jungle. He is eager to explore the place, but remains south of the border, calling out now in the hopes that someone will come and find him.

    -------------------i v a r
    ------------------------------------djinni and stillwater---------------------------------

    #2
    Merida
    from the ashes, a fire shall be awoken
    The mare has been on edge lately. A prick of unease rattles her very core, keeping her from enjoying her daily wanderings and even keeping her from sleeping soundly. It had never occurred to her that living in Loess might give way to new leadership and rulers; now that it has, the black mare was far from pleased at the new structure she was now would have to take part in. Royalty and monarchies were never her cup of tea; she was fiercely independent and was certain her personality would not mesh well with the fabrication that came with overruling sovereigns. Even with Taiga at their backs, Merida could not help the feeling of disrupt and uncertainty that now overwhelms her. It made her irritable and bad-tempered, her adventurous spirit overcome by her sense of pride.  

    Unsure how her new queen (the word was sour on her tongue, unfamiliar and bitter) would be proving herself worthy of such a designation, Merida decided that her once solitary and quiet lifestyle now no longer suits Loess in its present state. Word would travel quickly that Loess was now a sub-kingdom of Taiga, weak and vulnerable at its core for the time being. The idea of others slithering through the cracks into her home made her uneasy. Before, Loess was merely a small area that no one really cared for – but now, with the large fortress of Taiga looming over them, Merida was sure that there would be a target on their backs. They were no longer a forgotten and isolated land, they were allianced and small, new and young. If someone wished to wound Taiga, Loess would be the first place they would go.

    She begins to venture out of her comfort zone, patrolling borders when she became restless. She longs for the security of her weeping willow, its long and green boughs shading and protecting her with its natural barricade. The black mare has found that when she tries to find rest within its depths, there is no relief – merely constant worry and a disquieting sense of foreboding. Unable to stomach the feelings any longer, she used her head to brush the branches out of her way and moves away from the willow, and out onto Loess’ boundaries.

    It is good that she did, for not shortly after her arrival, a sharp call enters her ears. She lifts her head quickly, black nostrils flaring inquisitively as she searches for a scent or sight of the source. The warm breeze of summer lifts her fiery red tendrils from the dark of her neck and face, twirling them around her like flames. Particularly good at tracking, Merida finds the boy easily – his color is dark against the bright green of the hills that surround them, and though she thinks of him as ‘boy’, his height implies everything but. Her sparkling eyes, fierce and untrusting, do not waver as her stare bores into him, sizing up the stranger as she brings herself to him.

    He is young and smells of the salty brine of the sea. Other scents linger on his skin, but they are lost with the saltwater that has long since dried. Her ears have flicked backwards pensively in her approach, a sharp snort leaving her onyx nostrils as she halts before him. He had been careful not to enter fully into Loess, but Merida’s newfound distrust and suspicion left her no room for error – she would not be kind, but to snub a complete stranger was hard for the sturdy black mare. “Why have you come? Respond truthfully – whether I run you out of Loess or not depends on your answer.” Her voice is laced with a slight lilt of a laugh, but the fervent stare of her burning eyes lets the young stallion know that she is not joking. Despite being small in stature, the muscular mare would not hesitate to mark the dark, shining coat of this tall stranger with her teeth or hooves.
    #3


    i know i'm not the center of the universe
    -but you keep spinning 'round me just the same

    He inspects the flowering stalk of a yucca, poking gently at the white blossoms with his pale nose. He’s learned his lesson in Ischia – flowers are not the most delicious things – but he has never seen a plant quite like this one before. Caught up in his own curiosity, Ivar almost misses the quick flash of movement to his left.

    It is not in his nature to be fearful, but he takes in the hard stare and determined approach of the red-haired mare and takes a few steps back. While he knows that battle is a thing that a horse can learn, it has never occurred to Ivar that doling out violence on strangers was practiced in Beqanna. He is, for a moment, clearly confused and unsure of himself. Despite all his adventuring, he has never come across anyone that was not friendly.

    He had to grow up sometime, I suppose.

    “I just wanted to see Loess,” he tells her, “but technically I’m not even in Loess yet.” He looks up with an expression that isn’t quite a smile; more of a testing how much of the faint laugh in the black mare’s threat she’d really meant to let slip. The piebald colt is clearly not properly cowed by the mare’s defensive approach, but an outside observer most certainly would be. It’s only the queer combination of nature and nurture in the brown-eyed colt that make him so unnaturally bold in the face of danger.

    -------------------i v a r
    ------------------------------------djinni and stillwater---------------------------------

    #4
    Merida
    from the ashes, a fire shall be awoken
    He stares at her (almost staring down at her), with this sort of dumbfounded, boyhood wonder. The pied colt seems well traveled enough. However, the complete look of surprise in his eyes tells Merida that his experience in the diverse world of Beqanna has not revealed to him an already bad-tempered mare who happens to be having a particularly bad week. He takes a few steps away from her, which causes her ears to prick forward almost thankfully – he seems subdued by her presence and not interested in coming any closer. She’s almost hoping that he’ll continue stepping backwards and slowly make his way to the ocean he had come from to return home to his mother and father.

    Of course, the exact opposite happens.

    His rebuttal causes her ears to hide beneath the flaming tendrils of mane that twirl precariously at her face and neck. ‘Just wanted to see Loess.’ What is there to see? Some hills and a few rocks? A pissed off mare who hasn’t slept in days? Her black lips pull back to reveal her teeth, and she reaches towards him with quick, decisive steps to purposely clamp down on the emptiness of the air near his throat. “I hate technicalities,” she says to him, her voice a mixture of a hiss and purr.

    Merida draws her head away from him, closing her lips and letting the fierce red of her eyes trace the pied colt once again. He didn’t seem to mean any true harm to her or Loess, but it did not do well for her to not at least chide him for his attempted sarcasm in the face of a very ill-tempered mare.

    “Well here it is. You’ve seen it. Goodbye.” She dismisses him with a flick of her tail at her hocks, her nostrils flaring as a flippant snort leaves her. She stands and waits, part of her knowing that the colt will either complain that she refuses to give him a grand tour and return her stubbornness with his own, or he will eventually give up and turn back from whence he came. 

    It was a good thing Merida did not have anything planned today. She will stand before him until her legs begin to grow roots before she would let him move forward. 
    #5
    Ivar is exceedingly confident - overconfident, it might seem; no one his age should be so sure of themselves.

    When she strides forward to snap a warning at his throat, the piebald horse does not pull away. He blinks, only to stop a flyaway wisp of her red mane from striking his eye, but he had made no effort to shy away from what seemed - for all intents and purposes - a physical attack.

    If he were a little older - a little smarter, a little more seasoned - he might have known better than to keep trying. It was clearly time for a wise horse to back away, to wait, but Ivar is young and brash. He neither submits nor presses harder; instead he changes tactics.

    Glancing back over his pale shoulder for a moment, the smoky black stallion returns his gaze to the mare's. This time his head is lowered slightly, and he looks up with a half-smile.

    "What if I'd just like to look more closely at that tree?" Asks the young stallion with what sounds likely truly genuine curiosity. It's not like any he's ever come across before. The baobab tree that grows beside a distant hill is striking, impossibly wide and limbless until the very top. "We don't have trees like that where I come from."

    Ivar doesn't add where it is he's from, at least not until he's spotted a novelty even farther into the lands of Loess than even the baobab tree. A spring - it smells like saltwater - emerges from the ground at the top of a rocky ledge, and it spills down into what seems to be a pool surrounded by ferns that would dwarf a fully grown horse.

    "We definitely don't have things like that in Sylva." He says, with just enough genuine awe in his voice to reveal his true intent. He really does just want to see Loess. He has seen the wonders of the other lands - the active volcano of Tephra, the glowing waters of Ischia, the granite cliffs of Nerine. Surely Loess has things equally unique; even from where he stands at the edge of the realm he can already see two things he'd never before imagined.
    #6
    Heda
    The golden queen, looms over her kingdom, with her gorgeous arial view across her new country, what was not to love? But as she surveys, navy tinged wings flapping vigorously, and hazel gems keenly fixed upon the horizon. Her gaze fixating upon the border of her kingdom, where two silhouettes danced. One quite small, perhaps even with a rather familiar build, while the other tall, and graceful there was hardly a its who that might be than no other than Miss Merida. The fiery hearted mare, she had met briefly in the little meeting. 

    And as Heda nears, the two slowly cascading down to the ground to meet the pair, to her surprise the smaller figure is no other than Ivar. The boy whom had visited Taiga during the harsh winters, he was kind, and of course seemed as curious as always. 

    Her gentle gaze flickers upon Merida, for what Heda had heard was quite unwelcoming despite the new order of a sanctuary resting upon Loess. Therefore the golden girl steps forwards releasing honey dipped words, "Ivar, what a pleasure to see you again!" A friendly grin is fitted smugly upon her lips as always. "Now, now Merida I'm sure you can show Ivar around, he's quite the explorer after all." She chuckles, her eyes affectionately meeting him. 

    She'd always admired the boys curiosity, and his sweet enjoyment of life might as well give him the opportunity to have a little fun exploring.
    Go ahead. Laugh at the girl that loved to easily
    html by call


    I know it's utter crap, but I wanted to get something up so sweet little Ivar could be treated nicely lol
    [Image: dc9b5pd-da224f9b-4062-4ac8-924f-4dd26147...1Y8jmwEofM]
    Ex-Queen of Loess
    ・❥・
    #7
    Merida
    from the ashes, a fire shall be awoken

    Her inability to trust (and her absolute need to not be the fool) seems to cloud the pretty features of the ebony mare. The soft lines of her dark face become hard as she twists them into a scowl, glowering as the colt literally is not afraid or put off by her presence. Part of her wishes to tell the boy that he is rather lucky it is her that he’s come upon – she is merely bad-tempered and frustrated; not searching to feel flesh break beneath her teeth or bones to crack with the force of her hooves. She had been looking for peace and quiet, which was now nonexistent with the news of Loess now being a kingdom – she may never rest again. He is the first of many who will begin to trickle down and visit her home.
     
    Merida is able to tell that there is no malice in his voice, no sarcasm laced on his youthful questioning. However, that did not soothe her fiery disposition as much as she had hoped, for her black ears still hide beneath the tangled mess of her red mane. Oh how she wishes she had some sort of ability – to light a fire beneath his hooves or tangle his legs in constricting vines; but she continues to stare at him fiercely, wondering to herself if she will take the time to have more children if this is what they are like – clueless and too damn curious.
     
    Taking a few steps forward with heavy hooves, about to inform the black and pale colt that she is unfortunately, not in charge of menial things such as showing children different trees (with maybe a few more choice words thrown in) but her thought process is interrupted by a gentle and sweet voice behind her. Her brow becomes a hood over the sparkling red of her eyes that now look upwards in exasperation – a look that Heda would not have seen, yet Ivar would take full notice.
     
    With a sigh and her black lips pressing forcefully into a thin smile, Merida turns her head over her shoulder to look at Heda, her brows now rising in amusement. “Ivar, is it?” Her voice attempts to be gentle as her head tilts questioningly, but the endeavor is lost as it slips through a clenched teeth, bringing her head forward again to stare with a narrowed gaze at the colt before her. Of course, he knew the golden girl. He seems to be full of luck today.
     
    The black mare bristles noticeably as Heda suggests that Merida show him around, eyes widening to gaze at the winged mare. The mere force of will keeps her jaw from dropping open in disbelief. Merida’s head snaps back to Ivar, eyes narrowing at him once again as a sharp snort leaves her nostrils. Had she just become his babysitter? A cruel punishment, to say the least.
     
    With a roll of her shoulders as if to shrug off the idea, a gritted and growling “Fine.” leaves her lips as the black mare turns her head and then herself towards the tree that Ivar had picked out himself, waiting for the pied colt to draw up beside her.


    Merida is loving this lmao
    #8


    i know i'm not the center of the universe
    -but you keep spinning 'round me just the same

    Though he knows that horses can fly, it does not make the sight any less strange. Heda – the golden mare he remembers from Taiga – is landing not too far from the black mare. Is she here to visit too, he wonders, has she come to see Loess? He does not see Merida’s few threatening steps forward, having craned his head to look past her to Heda as she approaches.

    He does look back in time to catch the expression on Merida’s face – one that looks rather like Ivar’s reflection had when Mother had told him that ‘four hours is too long to watch a single fish’. It’s not a emotion he’d expect the bold mare to have when facing yet another newcomer to her kingdom, and Ivar’s poale brow wrinkles slightly in confusion. Heda’s words do nothing to ease the confusion, though he does manage to give her a polite smile and a friendly:

    “Hello Heda!”

    Merida’s response to the buckskin’s request that she show him around is equally puzzling; she seems incredulous and yet also seems to be willing to follow the command. The red haired mare turns away, clearly heading toward the baobab tree he’d indicated a moment ago. He is eager to follow after her, but pauses beside Heda to tell her that:

    “She’s a real good guard,” before he turns to catch up to Merida. He has to canter for a stride or two, and he kicks out his heels in a playful buck before he settles beside the black mare. This is not his first time following an adult through a strange land. Of course, he’s never seen met someone that moved for any reason other than having to follow their parents, so he is equally curious about Heda’s presence in Loess as he is about the tree that is quickly growing closer.

    “I though Heda lived in Taiga.” He asks curiously, “Did she move? Did you move? Is that a thing, moving? I’ve never moved.”

    -------------------i v a r
    ------------------------------------djinni and stillwater---------------------------------

    #9
    Merida
    from the ashes, a fire shall be awoken
     

    The boy does not hesitate, especially now that he has been given permission to enter by Heda. Merida wrinkles her nose, a rather bad habit that she had acquired since she was just a filly. Her mother and father would always tell her that she needed to hide her emotions a little better, or at least try to, but it didn’t suit the ebony and red mare. He’s excited, and if Merida would let herself think on that for a moment, she would realize that she and Ivar had a lot more in common than she realizes. She too, had been an adventurer during her younger years, inquisitive (almost to the point where it was irritating to most) and fiery. The two have not diminished as she grew older (she questions everything), but she lacks the luster she once had – maybe it was the weight of time wearing heavy on her, or maybe her experiences in her life haven’t been what she had originally dreamed them to be when she was a filly.
     
    He bucks before settling in beside her, and Merida’s brows rise in amusement, her lips still pressing together firmly. The last child she had met that was about his age had been the eerily strange twins in the meadow, who had rescued her from an icy, water death. The memory of them is hazy, but the haunting feeling they left in her mind did not diminish. She shivers slightly, wondering if that’s why she is so put off by everything at the moment, but shrugs as if dismissing the thought. Those two were long gone, and no one knows what she had done to secure her safe recovery from the shattered ice.
     
    With a snort, Merida’s burning red gaze glances down at Ivar. They have begun walking now, a slow and steady pace that the mare has set. She is not sure if Heda will follow, but in good faith, the mare pricks her ears towards him as begins to rattle off questions, trying to keep the exasperation from finding her face. Instead she merely grinds her teeth to keep from saying something snarky, seeing as the young colt had no idea how her sense of humor (or sarcasm) seems to work just yet. She flicks her tail against her red-freckled haunch, taking a breath and exhaling in a sigh.
     
    “I know about the same as you,” she says flatly in response to where Heda used to live. She honestly didn’t know anything about the winged woman; their time together has been short and fleeting, and though she was still wary about the blue-tipped mare, Merida was not one to tell someone else’s story. “Moving is a thing. I’ve moved countless times, everywhere, even beyond Beqanna.” Merida’s eyes flick forward to the baobab tree that they were heading for, rolling her shoulders as memories of her past flutter in her mind. “Bet you’ll move soon, too. You don’t seem like you can stay in one place for long.” Her voice slows at the end of her statement, almost pointedly, hinting at the boy’s chipper disposition and quick moving hooves. Such innocence, he had. She wonders if he knows how lucky he is to not be put down by the pressures of the world yet.




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